


Keeping The Nightmares At Bay

by Aurënfaie (Aurenfaie)



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Fenders Family Secret Santa 2015, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-09 00:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5519336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurenfaie/pseuds/Aur%C3%ABnfaie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenders Secret Santa 2015</p><p>Anders has a nightmare and Fenris comforts him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping The Nightmares At Bay

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so my Secret Santa recipient was @pollencount, who sadly was unable to participate--but not to worry! Your Christmas can still be merry! You asked for a little Fenris comforting Anders, and you shall receive! I took the hurt Anders to be a little more ah...mental hurt Anders, but hopefully you enjoy!

 

The cold mountain air bit into his lungs as Anders jolted awake. His eyes filled with fire and his ears rang with long gone screams. Darkspawn became abominations became templars in his disordered thoughts.

Justice’s voice boomed like explosions as the spirit struck down every warped demon in Anders’ memory and imagination. Later he would suppose that Justice meant to help him, but the crash against his thoughts reminded him too much of the massive fireballs the Hero of Ferelden threw about in the fight at Vigil’s Keep. Anders had been struck by one when he came too close to an ogre and it was a small miracle that he had survived. It wasn’t that the Hero had disregarded Anders’ life enough to strike him willfully then, but the man had already sacrificed a city to the Darkspawn, and the things he’d do for his country, for his love of King Alistair, made him a monster in his own right. Now Anders had nightmares about him as well.

Anders lunged upward and cast around for the shadows of monsters lurking in his fading nightmares.

Instead of the disfigured faces of Darkspawn and abominations, he found himself under a tent canopy. Hawke snored quietly beside him, bundled in blankets and drooling a little onto the tunic stuffed under his head. The front of the tent was left open and facing toward the blazing fire in the center of their camp. As much as it let the bitter winter air in, it brought in even more warmth and light.

Every inch of Anders wanted to run away. The tent was at once too stifling and too exposed. He wanted a cave, he wanted an open plain. He wanted to be anywhere but here and alone with his thoughts.

He let out a quiet sob and covered his ears.The sounds and images were coming from inside his head, he knew this much, but when he clenched his eyes shut, he felt just a tiny bit safer and almost sane.

Once he trusted his arms and legs to hold him, Anders crawled out of the tent and stood trembling and lost at its entrance. He swayed like a the branches of a tree, looking absently up at the stars. His breath puffed out in white smoke, billowing around his head. Though he’d slept in his robes to keep warm, a light breeze cut right through them and he shuffled closer to the fire.

The camp was no more than two tents, one on either side of the fire, and two logs on their sides. This had been their common camp for years when traveling around Sundermount, and it had taken on a familiar, comfortable feel to it. The other travelers in the area likely used it as well, and did not remove the ring of stones around the makeshift fire pit, nor did they roll away the logs used as benches. Anders settled himself onto the log just outside his and Hawke’s tent, keeping his eyes down and away from the tent Fenris and Isabela shared.

On the far side of the fire, Fenris’ eyes glowed faintly. Still in full armor with a cloak wrapped around his shoulders, he sat on an overturned log, sword propped against it, and elbows propped on his knees. He’d been set to keep watch and had undoubtedly noticed Anders’ panicked escape from the tent, though he remained silent and staring. Anders did his best to ignore him, to not engage. He didn’t think he could find the words to defend himself now. He didn’t want to need to find those words. He wanted to get his head on straight and not worry about going mad himself. At the very least, Justice’s presence had faded slightly, enough that Anders could hear the quiet crackle of the fire and Fenris’ absent tapping against his armor. Anders thought it must give Fenris great joy to see his least favorite mage so shaken.

Anders could feel those sharp green eyes digging into him, trying to drag answers from his demeanor. Fenis could be frighteningly perceptive when he wanted, and he had undoubtedly learned far more than Anders wanted to share.

Even so, the camp remained silent. Anders continued to burn under Fenris’ stare, and no words were shared between them.

Anders pushed his fingers through his tousled hair, dragging the leather strap from it. His hair then hung around his face like a curtain. It gave him little privacy against Fenris’ eyes, but it was better than nothing and he didn’t think he could muster the energy to straighten himself up just yet.

“A nightmare?” came a rough, low voice cutting through the cold air.

Anders tangled his fingers into his hair and pulled at it punishingly, as though this would clear his mind. It did not and instead he found himself rocking gently.

If the lack of answer upset him, Fenris didn’t show it. He grunted and poked at the fire with a long stick. A burning log shifted under his prodding and broke through the mess of embers, sparkling loudly and brightly. At once Anders’ mind filled with the fires blazing at Vigil’s Keep, the ones the Hero had started to guide the Darkspawn into his traps. It had been just as dangerous for the Wardens around the keep then as it had been for the monsters, but Justice seemed to agree with the Hero of Ferelden. They were horrifyingly alike sometimes in their willingness to sacrifice anything and everything for victory. In the end, he’d been right. The Darkspawn were gone. The nightmare was not.

Anders’ skin burned in memory of it. He had precious few scars to prove he’d been there, to prove that the madness had been real, but he remembered it.

Anders couldn’t help the cry of alarm that burst from his throat. Before it was even done, he was ashamed of his own jumpiness. Back in Vigil’s Keep, he’d been known as something of a coward. Now though, now he was supposed to be some being of righteousness and courage. What a joke, he told himself as he buried his face in his knees and drew in a deep breath. The exhale gave a pitiful whine, and he nearly sobbed at how pathetic the whole thing was. His eyes clenched shut, blocking out the heat, the memories of Vigil’s keep. He continued rocking and folded his arms over his head.

If Fenris wanted to make fun of him, then fine. He didn’t think he could feel any worse than he did then.

The soft sound of dirt and dead grass crept into Anders’ ears, but he kept himself occupied with trying to put all of his pieces back into place. He mentally braced himself for the snide remarks sure to come his way. “ _Mages are so weak_ ,” he expected as he tightened his arms around his head.

The words never came. Instead, heavy fabric fell over his head, shielding him from the firelight. He tried to push his head out from under it, to see what had happened, to understand what it meant, but a warm hand flattened along his spine and he stilled.

He immediately knew it was Fenris. No one else could shut Justice up like that. Lyrium left the spirit sated and silent, like he’d been smoking the blood lotus gum sold in the Rose, and only Fenris held enough to leave Justice so far gone. Had he ever told Fenris that? Anders wasn’t sure. He wondered if Fenris knew.

Under the cloak, Anders could see nothing at all. He wasn’t sure why, but this reassured him. The memories seemed to drift back into their cages. The pieces his nightmare had caught on lingered the longest, the face of the Hero twisted into that of an emissary. Under Fenris’ touch, the image seemed to fade away until Anders was left with nothing but the peaceful dark.

Anders’ whimpering breaths slowed and fell quiet. The explosions were gone, the fire was gone, the Darkspawn were gone, the Hero was gone.

And then the night was gone. Anders lolled sideways into Fenris, his sleep heavy body pressed against him as a warm weight. His did not dream again that night. A sharp tempered elf kept all of the demons at bay.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on my writing Tumblr at [aurenfaiewrites](http://aurenfaiewrites.tumblr.com/), or at my personal Tumblr [here](http://realvsable.tumblr.com/).


End file.
